


Part 3

by Writer_Lethogica



Series: The Sam and Cas Show [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Lethogica/pseuds/Writer_Lethogica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester is your average lawyer in a humdrum small town. And Cas is his brother-in-law whose down on his luck. Cas has lost his job at the church and is now a sales associate at a gas station. He wants to keep it a secret while his husband Dean is helping out the Japanese branch of the car company he’s vice president of because he doesn’t want to worry him. But Sam has found out! Now, Sam and Cas have to live under one roof, trying to keep the secret as Cas looks for a better job. Will Dean ever find out? It’s the sitcom that will touch all our hearts and funny bones. It’s the Sam & Cas Show!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part 3

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a project I'm doing for fun, so no beta! Enjoy. :)

Cas shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the woman on the other side of the desk looked through his resume.

“So,” she said, “You were in a commercial once?”

Cas grinned, thinking back to the days where he thought he’d be a TV star.

“Well, I did a commercial for a tax relief company, uh, Heavenly Helpers. I played Steve the Angel in the Commercial.”

The woman gave him a look.

“ _Steve the Angel_?”

“Uh, yes, Dr. Visyak. My line was _I shall grab you firmly and raise you from taxation_.”

Cas kept smiling, thinking back to the commercial. The professor just went back to reading Cas’ resume.

“It says you majored in history and religious studies and minored in dead languages?” asked Dr. Visyak. Cas nodded.

“What did you study specifically?”

“Mostly B.C.E. Middle East and Europe and Abrahamic religions. I may be a bit rusty, but I am fluent in Latin and Enochian.”

Dr. Visyak raised an eyebrow.

“How do you think any of these skills will help me? I’m a professor of Medieval Studies, Mr. Winchester, not a Religious studies teacher. I focus on Scandinavian medieval history and mythology,” said Dr. Visyak.

“Er, well, my brother is actually a Professor of Norse Mythology at Kansas State. People have nicknamed him Loki over there for his mischievous pranks. I used to help him out during the summer when he was preparing for a new semester when I was younger—”

Dr. Visyak raised her hand.

“I think I’ve heard enough, Mr. Winchester. I think we’re done here,” said Dr. Visyak, gesturing for Cas to stand up. Cas held in his disappointment, standing up and slapping on a smile.

“Okay. See you, Dr. Visyak,” said Cas.

“All right, Mr. Winchester. And make sure to tell Bobby Singer I say hello, okay?” said Dr. Visyak. Cas nodded.

“I will.”

He walked out of the building extremely sure that he did not get that job. He wondered whether or not he should take that commercial off his resume. That and that time he was in a porno. That was the most money he ever got as a pizzaman, that’s for sure.

Suddenly, Cas bumped into someone.

“Oh, excuse me,” said Cas, helping the young woman up. He noticed something in her hands.

“Is that a—”

The girl grinned.

“Yes. A beekeeper hat. I watch the bees, so to speak,” said the girl. Cas kept grinning.

“I always was interested in bees. Oh, sorry, Castiel Winchester,” said Cas, extending a hand she shook it.

“Eve Maxwell. I’m a biologist professor here, but I also keep a couple of beehives on the edge of campus,” said the woman, “I’m doing research on mating habits.”

“So you’re more into the queen breeder part of beekeeping?”

Eve smiled.

“So you do know a bit about beekeeping.”

“My cousin Muriel works at a national park and she does beekeeping on the side. I used to visit her during my Christmas breaks during college and I helped her out with the bees. She does commercial beekeeping like beeswax and honey, but she knows about all three ways to do the trade.”

Eve nodded.

“You came from Dr. Visyak’s office, right?”

Cas tilted his head, squinting.

“How did you know?” asked Cas.

“I know that she was looking for an assistant. This college is pretty small too, I know when I see a new face. Does this mean I’ll be seeing you around?” asked Eve. Cas shrugged.

“I don’t know. She saw my _resume_. Man, I really need to take that porno I did off their, people have been giving me weird looks all day,” grumbled Cas. Eve laughed.

“Porno?” asked Eve.

“I learned everything I know from being the pizza man…don’t judge, I had to pay for two years of my college on my own. I did what I had to do.”

Eve grinned.

“Well, Castiel, if she doesn’t call you, you should call me,” said Eve, writing down her number on a scratch sheet of paper in her pocket and handing it to Cas, “I’m going on a three-month research trip in a couple of weeks and I’m going to need somebody to watch my bees.”

Cas just smiled. He didn’t know what to say. The whole idea of being a beekeeper was just so exciting.

“Uh—sure. Definitely,” said Cas.

*****

“ _Beekeeping_?”

Cas set his beekeeping guide down, all smiles.

“Beekeeping.”

Sam gave him a ‘what are you crazy’ look.

“Keeper of the Bees?”

“Oh, come on, you don’t know how awesome beekeeping is! Do you know who was a beekeeper?” asked Cas, setting the book down. He could barely contain his excitement. Sam, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

“Really? Cas, is there _anybody_ who is famous and is a beekeeper? Name one, I dare you,” said Sam, not amused.

“Sherlock. Holmes. I’m going to be like Sherlock Holmes.”

Sam just kept giving him that look.

“Oh, come on, Sammy boy. I know you’re a moose, but that doesn’t mean you need to look so unamoosed. When Sherlock retired from solving cases, he became a beekeeper. How did you not know that? Don’t you read things? I thought you were the nerd of the family.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m the nerd. What about you ask your husband about _Star Trek_ and the _Hunger Games_. That dude can talk up a storm about how Team Peeta he is,” said Sam.

“Oh, please, who do you think turned him onto the Hunger Games, little moose? I know my husband more than you’ll ever know,” said Cas, moving his eyebrows suggestively. Sam squeezed his eyes shut.

“God, more than I’d ever want to know. Is it your mission in life to constantly scar me?” asked Sam.

“You seem troubled. Of course, that’s a primary aspect of your personality, so I sometimes ignore it.”

“You’re an ass, Cas.”

Cas winked.

“And don’t you forget it, moose.”

Cas picked up his beekeeping book once more.

“What are you going to do now, though?”

Cas raised an eyebrow, looking up at Sam again.

“What about?”

“You know? The job situation? You have a couple weeks before the beekeeping job, and that one’s only temporary as well,” said Sam. Cas groaned, looking back down at his book.

“Stop saying words from your mouth, you moose! Let me think about that later. As Dean has taught me, you gotta live one day at a time,” said Cas.

“You used to be so uptight Cas, you know that? What happened to you?” asked Sam as he began to walk out of the living room.

“Life,” called Cas.

*****

Cas walked to the door, annoyed that Sam, even after several yells to the upstairs, would not see who was ringing the doorbell.

“If Dean was here, he would have opened the door for me,” grumbled Cas. He opened the door.

For a full minute, he stared at the guy.

Cas closed the door and walked back into the living room. Cas could hear the doorbell ring again. The sound of tapping could be heard from the stairs. The moose himself clopped into the living room, prettified with pajamas. He undid the towel turban on his head, letting his glorious locks run wild.

“Cas, did you not even try to get the door?” asked Sam. Walking clumsily to the door.

“OPEN AT YOUR OWN RISK,” said Cas, flipping to the next page in his beekeeping guide. Sam rolled his eyes and opened the door. He blinked.

“Benny?” said Sam.

“Hey, there, rug rat. Dean said you’d be home,” said Benny. Cas ran out of the living room for a second, glaring at Benny.

“ _No he did not. I refute that_ ,” hissed Cas, walking back to his couch, stuffing his face into the book. Benny laughed.

“Oh ye of friggin’ little faith,” said Benny, laughing a bit. He turned to Sam.

“Rug rat, I swung by to check out how y’all are doin’. Dean asked me to come pop by to make sure you didn’t burn down th’ house or nothin’. Wanted to make sure Cas wasn’t just feeding you burgers everyday.”

Benny held up a bag.

“ _No_ …that isn’t…”

Benny grinned.

“Yes it is,” said Benny, “Cooked it up right before I left the restaurant. I keep my word. There’s a reason why Dean trusts me, y’know?”

He handed the bag to Sam. Cas quickly poked his head into the room and glared at Benny.

“I can cook things other than burgers,” hissed Cas. Benny raised an eyebrow.

“Like what, angel?” asked Benny. His look wasn’t one of malice nor condescension. It was friendly, nice, patient. Cas hated it.

“…pies…” Cas mumbled, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly like a half-lying child.

“That’s swell, Cas. You should help me make pies next Thanksgiving,” said Benny. Cas scrunched his face.

“Who invited _you_ to freaking _Thanksgiving_.”

Benny waited patiently for Cas to connect the dots. A slew of curse words blurted out of Cas as he walked to the telephone. He stopped halfway, walked back, grabbed the bag of food from Sam, stole a handful of French fries, shouted “CURSE YOU AND YOUR MOUTH WATERING CREATIONS”, started shouting a slur of cuss words once more, then started to walk back to the telephone. Benny just smiled shaking his head.

“Well, I guess I should get going,” said Benny, “I know how angel gets when I poke my head in for far too long.”

Sam was a bit reluctant about Benny as well. He didn’t quite understand how Dean was such great friends with this guy, but he knew at least one good thing about him—never once in their friendship has Benny let Dean down.

“Nice seeing you, Benny,” said Sam politely. Benny just smiled.

“I know you don’t really mean it, but I’m glad you’re trying. See you.”

And with that, Benny was gone. Sam walked into the living room as Cas swore, on his fifth call trying to get Dean to pick up. The phone began to ring.

“DEAN?”

“ANNA. CHECK YOUR FREAKING CALLER ID FOR ONCE. YOU’RE KILLING ME.”

Cas groaned.

“But I need to talk to DEANNNNNNNN,” whined Cas, “Benny said he was invited to next Thanksgiving and he’s going to make pies and I DON’T WANT THAT. He’s going to make better pies than me, Anna, I can just taste it. That can’t happen, _I won’t let it happen_.”

“Oh, come on, Cassie! Benny’s a sweet guy!” said Anna.

“HE’S _TOO SWEET_. He’s _too perfect_. I don’t like it. NO ONE CAN BE THAT NICE AND PERFECT, IT’S NOT PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE. IT’S—IT’S NOT FAIR.”

Anna began to howl with laughter.

“Good God, Cassie, you’re jealous? You’re so cute, you know that?” said Anna between bursts of uncontrollable laughter.

“SCREECH LIES! ALL SCREECH LIES!” hissed Cas infuriatingly. Sam couldn’t even hold in his laughter any longer. Cas gave Sam a betrayed look.

“MOOSE! HOW DARE YOU GO ALONG WITH THIS BACK STABBERY AS WELL! I AM NOT JEALOUS—I JUST—UGH, HE’S JUST TOO NICE AND PERFECT AND IT’S NOT FAIR, I CAN’T FIND ANY FAULTS WITH HIM AND I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND!” groaned Cas, his face in his hands. Sam finally got control of his laughter for a moment.

“I get it, Cas,” said Sam, “He is a bit too good to be true.”

“See, Anna, SEE? I’m not the only one who thinks this! I’M NOT CRAZY! But, then, 94% of psychotics think they're perfectly sane, so I guess we'd have to ask ourselves, what is sane?” said Cas, his mind wandering and getting sidetracked.

“That’s a good question,” said Anna thoughtfully. Sam just smiled, happy that this was his family, even if they weren’t blood related.


End file.
